Why Are All These Men Posing with Monkeys?!

Loyal readers (which better fucking describe all of you pricks) will remember a scorching expose we did last spring about the bizarre trend of women posting profiles pics of themselves wearing mustaches. OK, you probably don’t remember it. I mean, come on, it’s a dating blog for god sakes. But still, here it is, if you’d like to go back and have your mind blown all over again. Basically, I discovered that countless ladies found it humorous and appealing to throw on some fake facial hair, smile, and post it on Match.com.


What can I say? I’m like Woodward and Bernstein, but more important. The photos stuck in my craw because clearly they’re an attempt at whimsy and wackiness, but when everyone else is doing the same thing, it gets a lot less wacky pretty damn fast. (And also because I have a particularly sticky craw. I’m having it looked at next week.) But what I’ve discovered today puts the mustaches to shame. This time, it’s all dudes…and their monkeys.Screen Shot 2013-02-02 at 12.19.27 AM

Screen Shot 2013-02-02 at 12.43.08 AM Screen Shot 2013-02-02 at 12.43.19 AM Screen Shot 2013-02-02 at 12.45.50 AM Screen Shot 2013-02-02 at 12.46.01 AM Screen Shot 2013-02-02 at 12.51.49 AM Screen Shot 2013-02-25 at 4.32.57 PM

Alright, what the hell is going on? That’s seven different men with seven different monkeys! And I didn’t find a single one myself. All of these pictures came from my legion of It’s Not a Match operatives (i.e. friends with too much free time), who would periodically email me and ask, “So, what’s the deal with guys and pictures of their monkey?” Obviously I assumed this was a euphemism, and apologized for whatever photos I might have sent late the previous evening, but then the evidence started streaming in. Men, for some reason, have decided that the way to a hook a woman is to post a picture of themselves fondling a primate. Weird.

Look, women in mustaches makes a certain degree of sense. Mustaches are objectively funny (sorry, Dad), and so women ‘staching it up is a fun little twist, I guess. No, it’s not the most original thing in the world, but I’ll take it over the omnipresent duck face any day. But guys with monkeys? Why? And how? Where are they finding all the monkeys? Is there a place I can go and give someone five bucks to put a monkey on my shoulder? Because I totally will. Hell, I’d even take a cat dressed up like a monkey. In fact, I’d probably prefer it. I tried to put my cat on my shoulder once and she gave me the finger. Right there, with her sweet little paw. Physically impressive, sure, but still insulting.

a.baa-Funny-monkey-with-girlAt first I just thought this was random coincidence, but I don’t know, seven guys with monkeys sounds like a legitimate trend to me. After careful consideration, I have come up with a list. Here now are all the possible reasons a guy would think it’s a good idea to post a monkey picture in his dating profile.

1) To prove they are not afraid of monkeys tearing their face off. Which they totally should be, because monkeys tear people’s faces off.

2) Tired of just simply repeating the classic profile aphorism, “I love to travel,” they’ve decided to take things up a notch by showing physical evidence of them in other countries. I mean, there’s something about close proximity to monkeys that just screams “exotic foreign locale,” right? Except the guy in the museum. That’s just some weirdo who’s into taxidermy.

3) They think it would be too obvious to post a picture of them cuddling with puppies.

4) If no women fall for him, he still has a decent shot at meeting a really technologically advanced monkey.

5) In a side by side comparison, it’s hard to not look more attractive than a monkey.

6) It’s better than a picture with their ex. Unless, wait…could the monkey be their ex?!

So what do you think? Have you seen monkey pictures on your internet dating travels? Do they sweep you off your feet? And, most importantly, have you seen an even weirder photo trend? Like.. say, men with koalas?

Screen Shot 2013-02-28 at 11.22.49 PM

That would just be outstanding…

Posted in Internet Dating is Weird | 18 Comments

Your Awful Stories: Three Tales of Assholes

An example of an asshole.

An example of an asshole.

There are myriad ways that men can act like assholes on an internet date. They can call you the wrong name, ditch you for a clearly fake emergency, or just maybe just barf all over the place. Hell, there are myriad ways that I’ve acted like an asshole on an internet date. One time when I was kissing a girl hello, I leaned in with such excessive enthusiasm that we banged cheekbones, and she said, with no small anger in her voice: “God! That really hurt!” OK, maybe that was more “ass” than “asshole,” but it was so profoundly lame that it certainly warrants the four additional letters.

Today I’m gonna do something I haven’t in a while, and that’s feature letters from you readers. I’ve been holding off because I only like to do it when they’re some serious doozies, and this batch certainly qualifies. All of these are messages from women detailing the idiocy, incompetence and general insanity that is the male internet dater. This is not say that all us guys are buffoons, some of us handle things just fine. I imagine. I really wouldn’t know. I’m pretty much 100% buffoon.


First, this month’s bronze medal winner, from Allie K. in Toronto, Ontario…

I’m sending you this ridiculous message from okcupid that this scary, scary individual sent me a couple of weeks ago. Here goes…

“hey whats up? you definitely seem ambitious and willing to take risks and now days its really hard to find that in a woman…well let me tell you about myself…i went to school at university of new mexico, where i graduated with bachelors of science in chemistry and biology…my parents moved down to Canada in february, so when i graduated i went and visited them…over the break my mom fell ill, they found a lump near her breast and thought it was breast cancer, but after the proper tests , they removed the lump and it wasnt anything serious…than a week or two later, we found out that her uterus had fibroids, so we opted for a hysterectomy, and during surgery they a 3lb tumor hidden behind her uterus. talk about a miracle story! ive been going back and forth from the states and canada…still trying to decide what is a better option for me…im not a guy who looks for sympathy, because sympathy is for the weak…i consider myself a beast, and it suits me well…

Rarely seen on a Valentine's Day card...

Rarely seen on a Valentine’s Day card…

Little tip, fellahs. If you’re ever wondering whether it’s appropriate to use the words “fibroid,” “hysterectomy,” or “three-pound tumor hidden behind her uterus” in an OkCupid email, the answer is no. It’s not appropriate. Look, I don’t mean to make fun, obviously the guy has been through a lot, but introductory dating emails are supposed to be fun, witty, and charming. And your mom’s gigantic tumor is none of these things. No one has ever said the sentence, “Hey, let me tell you this hilarious story about the cancer in my mom’s uterus!” OK, go ahead and insist that you’re not looking for sympathy, but 1) I don’t believe you, and 2) why the hell else would you possibly be telling this story?! Trust me dude, go with sympathy! It’s the only thing that makes sense!


The silver medal email from Ann C. in Dallas, Texas.

“Matt” had very cute pictures and was a real southern boy, something I always find endearing. Self described as athletic and toned, after several emails we decided to meet at 9pm drink or two. We meet, and first warning sign: he was not athletic and toned. I don’t mind a few extra pounds, we all have them, but he was about 50-75 pounds more than his photos. Oh well, I thought, maybe he has an awesome personality….

So we grab a table and Matt proceeds to order dinner, and insists I do as well. I explained we made the date at 9, and I had already eaten earlier at work. He asks I at least get an “App,” so he doesn’t have to eat alone. [Editor’s Note: You know what you should do when you’re uncomfortable about eating alone? NOT EAT.] Anyway, I agree, and order a salad despite not being hungry. Matt orders himself two dinners: a large fish dinner and a chicken meal. I now realize why he no longer looks like his pictures. He begins to eat, and I finish about half my salad. He orders 3 more drinks… not for me, for himself.  The waitress comes over, and asks if I would like the salad wrapped up. I say no thanks, but Matt jumps in. “Excuse ME , actually you can wrap that up, I’ll take it home, since I’m PAYing for it.” Who takes home a girl’s half eaten salad?!

thanksgiving_dinner.jpg.scaled500Matt finishes his meal and takes home my half-eaten salad. As the bill comes, he quickly takes it away and I offer to pay. He looks at me as if I am nuts, but I’m thinking “well sir, you’re the one who just made a huge deal about the salad and paying in front of the waitress!” After paying, he walks me to my car and I thank him for the 2 drinks and “App,” and say goodnight. But Matt isn’t finished. “Is that it? I bought you an $80 meal and you’re not going to come home with me?” I guess I looked at him in disgust , and he tried to throw in a ” Just kidding!” My salad was $6 and my two drinks were $8, so no sir, you did not spend $80 bucks on me! I quickly closed the door and drove off.

Two days later, he sends a text message:” Are you ignoring me?” I decided to respond: “Yes.”  I haven’t heard from him since.

The bad ones always follow up, don’t they? Not once have they realized “Well, that was a nightmare. No way in hell she wants to hear from me again!” However, as bad ones go, Matt would’ve had to order 50 entrees to compete with our gold medal winner. 


And finally, the gold medal story of male insanity, from Gail C., writing from an undisclosed location. With good reason.

It all started when I innocently met a guy for coffee on his lunch break. I did not plan on seeing him again, but he continued to text and call and I finally caved in. Several months went by of us hanging out and dating and spending time together. He seemed nice enough and harmless (HA). 

After some time I invited this guy, we’ll call him Steve, to come on a beach trip with my friends, but made it clear that we would have separate bedrooms, and he was only invited to stay two days, as I felt it was too soon to spend an entire week together. We drove there together when the time came and everything was fine for the first day.

The second night he was there, we were all drinking, of course. Steve became incredibly drunk, also of course. I told the others that I wanted some time alone and was walking to the ocean and would be back shortly. That is apparently where I went wrong. I was standing in the edge of the tide alone (approx. midnight), when Steve appeared next to me. He was drunk and angry at me for “running away”. He began bumping into me and standing in front of me. He was stumbling all around, so I took off running into the ocean to get away from him. The farther out I went, the more panicked he became. He was screaming at me to come in before the sharks ate me. I was just laughing and telling him to relax. I swam back to the beach.

"Do you know that I LOVE YOU?"

“Do you know that I LOVE YOU?”

At this point, Steve declares his love for me. “Do you not know that I LOVE YOU?” He then asks me to hold his new iPhone so he can go into the ocean to die, because he wants to die if I do not love him back. I realize this is serious, and head back to the house (running) to get away from him and to be close to my friends. I then go into my room, lock both the inside and the patio doors and text my friends to tell them about this whacko. [Editor’s Note: I’m sure her friends were real pumped to get that text. “Oh, she locked herself in her room, so I guess we get to deal with him all night!”] When Steve gets back, I hear him enter the house sloppy and clumsy. He is stomping and falling. He climbs the three flights of stairs to my room and I hear him tugging on the door knob. When it doesn’t budge, he runs to the patio door and repeatedly tries jerking it open. With no luck, he returns to the inside door. He begins knocking. Louder, louder, louder. My friends come up and tell him to go to bed like everyone else. 

My silence sends him over the edge and he begins banging on my door, and screaming “FUCK YOU!” repeatedly, and throwing things around the house. Not sure what else to do, I just try to sleep. As I am dozing off, I hear him stomping and slamming and him screaming my name “GAIL!” through the house and off the balconies. I finally fall asleep anyway, and am awakened nearly an hour later by loud pounding on my door. I try to ignore it and act as though I am not in there, and then I hear “Gail! Open up! It’s the Sheriff!”.

I climb out of bed, trying to decide whether this is Steve trying to trick me out of my safe place. I fling the door opened, pissed, only to find myself face to face with the Sheriff. Apparently Steve had been running up and down the beach screaming my name, and screaming for help. Another house nearly a mile up the beach had heard his cries for help and called the police, who immediately drove up the beach looking for a person screaming help. They found him on our front steps, and when asked if he needed help he responded “Yes! I can’t find my girlfriend! She was on the beach and now she’s in the ocean!”

The sheriff ordered him to go to bed, took me aside, and advised me to stop seeing him (duh). The next day, at 7 am, I woke up and informed him that he would be taking a taxi to the airport.

You know you’re in the middle of an amazing internet dating experience when you hear the words “Open Up! It’s the Sheriff!” So there you have it, Steve, Matt, and Mister Hysterectomy, showing the diaspora of male internet dating insanity. A little bit of crazy, a little bit of angry, and a whole lot of horribly confused. I will say that it’s not wise to invite a guy on a beach vacation if you’re not particularly interested in him, but it’s hard to blame the ladies on this one. Sometimes us guys, well, we just act like assholes.

Another example of an asshole.

Another example of an asshole.

Think your tales of internet dating disaster are medal worthy? Send me your awful stories here at ItsNotaMatch@gmail.com! 

Posted in Your Awful Stories | 12 Comments

Is Bad Grammar a Dating Dealbreaker?

WhoopsIts my first time writing a profile, but I guess I’ll give it a shot…

Your gonna laugh when I tell you this, but my favorite thing to do on Friday night’s is play Scrabble!

Their is this amazing pizza place down the street, they’re sauce is the best, and the couple who runs it: there my favorites! I go there alot!

Sure, you could put any one of these sentences in your dating profile, or you could just write “I hate puppies.” Or “The Beatles were fucking hacks.” Or “My biggest problem with George Bush was that he could only serve two terms.” If there is one thing internet daters hate, it’s a typo. In profiles, emails, texts–heck, even if you just use bad grammar in your imagination, it’ll drive someone insane. And if your error happens to involve a member of the Its/It’s, Your/You’re, or There/Their/They’re Holy Trinity, shit is gonna get crazy. Your email isn’t just getting deleted, it’s getting forwarded to me with a caption that I’m too dignified to repeat. OK. I’m not dignified at all. It will say, “Can you believe this fucking asshole?!”, and then I will be expected to respond in kind. But you know what? I’m not doing that. Because I don’t think a couple of typos is really that big of a deal.

If you Google “internet dating turnoffs,” bad grammar is always on the list. (No, don’t Google it now. You’d have to leave this site. NEVER LEAVE THIS SITE.) For a lot of people, it’s a deal breaker. And they’re unapologetic about it. If you write “its” instead of “it’s,” your ass is out the door. And honestly, I don’t get it. Now, admittedly, regular readers of this site will know that I am fond of making a typo or two. Hell, there’s typos in my book. There’s almost certainly going to be typos in this article about typos! And yes, I recognize that the irony is deliciously rich, but not so rich that I’m going to send this piece to one of my proofreaders to make sure it’s error-free. Because typos, for me, are just a thing that happens. Internet writing is about speed, it’s about getting your ideas out there quickly, so if a mistake happens here or there, such is life. So I recognize that I have a bit of a horse in this race, but truly, I don’t understand the grammar nazism. And people will happily use that term…”Oh, you know me! I’m just a Grammar Nazi!” Isn’t that kinda of a tip-off that you’re going overboard, if you gotta use the word “Nazi” to explain your behavior?! No one ever says, “Oh, you know me! I’m just a Don’t-Set-Your-Baby-On-Fire Nazi.” Because we all know we’re not supposed to set babies on fire! You don’t have to be associated with the Nazis to take that super seriously. If the name of the worst organization in the history of the world is required to explain your devotion to a cause, it might be time to consider a few changes. Right? RIGHT.

"Zere is a differenze between ze colon and ze semi-colon!"

“Zere is a differenze between ze colon and ze semi-colon!”

Now obviously, there are different levels of typos. There’s someone who misplaces a word or apostrophe here or there, and there’s people who spit out this nonsense:

So anywae, whats the deal w the last email I sen t yu?!? Did u not geti t or what? Becuz youre pretty FUCKING stuk up if you think youre to important to write me bck…Its like get of youre fucking high horse…Chickz like u are the worst!!!!…That’s why i fuckin hate internt dating….

I mean, that person has to be stopped. And there’s a lot of those persons out there. I get forwarded those emails too, and I’m more than happy to echo the righteous indignation on those badboys. I mean, that reads like something written in cutout letters from a newspaper and sent along with a severed finger. And absolutely, that is not someone you should go out with. I mean, what is that guy’s idea of a perfect first date? Getting filet o’ fish sandwiches and watching Henry: Portrait of a Serial Killer with the volume turned up all the way? But that guy and the guy who says “you’re house” instead of “your house” a couple of times are totally different. One is insane, and one made a mistake. The former is not smart, the latter could be if you give ’em a shot. Does a typo suggest carelessness? It does. Does it suggest lack of attention? Sure. But do those things warrant elimination from your dating pool entirely? In my opinion, no they do not.

Essentially it comes down to a question of priorities. What’s more important to you as a dater: proofreading or chemistry? If you meet someone you find otherwise keen, does it really make sense to disqualify them based solely on a few errant key strokes? What really are you accomplishing by doing that? You have not won some great victory in the name of grammar and academia everywhere, you’ve just crossed somebody off your list. If the mistakes are chronic enough to suggest unintelligence, then by all means, let that person go on their way. But sometimes in internet dating, you can get a lot further by giving someone a second shot.

Wait. You can get a lot farther. Further? Do those mean the same thing? Oh, I don’t know anymore. Somebody tell me in the comments.

Posted in Advice | 78 Comments

11 Lies Everyone Tells on an Internet Date

Where have you been all my life?

Where have you been all my life?

1) “Sure, I’d love to have another drink!”

The vast majority of internet dates should end after cocktail #1. Like, 90% of them. But for some reason that feels rude. Your date’s expression says “I’d rather be watching my DVR!”, while you return a gaze that cries “Me too! I’d even tolerate commercials at this point!” But for some reason, when the bartender saunters over, neither of you can muster up the courage to ask for the check. He says “So, another round?!” and both of you look at your phone, realize you’ve only been there for 20 minutes, and say “Sure, why not!” as your mind immediately runs through 10 perfectly good reasons why not. Why do we do this to ourselves?! We as a dating public must have the courage to say “No thanks. It was good meeting you, but I’ve gotta run.” There’s nothing wrong with that. We can do it! Here’s how! Maybe!

2) “No, I’ve never been to this bar before, but it seems cool.”

If you’re on an Internet date and the guy picked the bar, he’s been there before. Several times. With several different women. Once a guy finds a good date spot, he tends to revisit it over and over. Why? Because, above all else, we are both lazy and stupid. I’m sorry. I really am. I had one bar in New York that I went to so often that the waitresses would ask me, “So, how’s this one going?” when my date would go to the restroom. And yes, my heart broke a little bit every time it happened. But it’s not easy to find a good first date spot, and we guys don’t like to give one up. No matter how much of a cad we feel like ordering the same drink from the same waitress, but with a different date. Like I said, I’m really sorry. Honestly, if you can muster up the attraction, I can’t recommend lesbianism highly enough.

3) “I am a normal person who can date in a normal way, I just find internet dating more convenient!”

Oh right, because emailing strangers, fending off “winks” from 60 year-old weirdos, and meeting people for happy hour on a Tuesday is super convenient!

I will french you for that seat. And yes, I am aware there are open seats.
I will french you for that seat. And yes, I am aware there are open seats.


It’s not 1920. We all kiss on first dates. Hell, in return for an empty subway seat, we’ll kiss on the way to a first date. Collectively, we’re floozies.

5) “Oh, I had no idea you went to school there!”

Yes you did. You Googled me. I Googled you. We know everything about each other that a semi-protected Facebook page can yield, as well as whatever I could glean from several outdated articles from your college newspaper. Sure, I don’t know exactly what you look like, but I do know that you received moderate-to-positive reviews in Colgate Drama Society’s 2003 production of The Fantasticks.

6) “My best friend isn’t my cat.”

OK, maybe that one’s just me.

7) “No, I’m not hungry at all.”

Really? Because the violent crime I’m going to perpetrate on a turkey burger the second I get home from this date suggests otherwise. Look, you eat dinner at 7:30, I eat dinner at 7:30. And even though our date is at 7:30, we’re both gonna pretend that red wine will totally suffice as supper, because we know that ordering dinner on a first Internet date is a no-no. Because the minute you place an order, you’re gonna realize your date is insane, and then you’re trapped until the entrees arrive. Sure, you could cancel the order, but you didn’t even have the guts to bail before a second drink ten minutes ago, so who are we kidding?

In a few minutes, they're gonna be doing it.

In a few minutes, they’re gonna be doing it.

8) “I love hiking too!”

Applies to LA internet dates only.

9) “I actually really love my job.”

I’m not sure I’ve ever been on a date where the woman has said, “you know, honestly, I hate what I do. It’s boring, and everyday I want to punch someone.” Why not? I used to work at a preposterous internet company that sold knickknacks like candles and fuzzy tea cozies. It was exactly as awful as that sentence makes it sound, but for some reason on dates I’d say, “It’s pretty cool. I mean, the schedule is flexible, and the job’s kinda dull, but I love my coworkers!” What that actually meant was: “I hate my co-workers, sometimes I sneak naps in the bathroom, and I spend lunch imagining ways to kill myself that feature either candles or fuzzy tea cozies. So far, the best one involves a catapult.” Actually, it’s probably good I didn’t say that. That’s pretty weird.

10) “I only smoke when I’m drinking.”

And yet, I’m carrying cigarettes. So either that’s a fib, or I drink A LOT. You pick!

11) “I wore this see-through shirt totally by accident.”

Let me guess. That one’s also just me?

Posted in Internet Dating is Weird | 20 Comments

The Worst Things to Do on a First Date


Everything that’s going on in my email box right now.

You guys keep emailing me and asking what’s the best thing to do on the first date. And I appreciate it, I really do. It’s nice to wake up in the morning and see so many messages in the It’s Not a Match in-box, especially when all that’s in my personal one are two emails from my Mom, and a message from a girl named Tanya promising XXX SUPER HOT NUDE PICS JUST FOR YOU HONEY, TOTALLY REAL!! which I’m starting to think is a hoax. I mean, if they really were just for me, why do there seem to be so many people CC’d? And if they’re real, why does she looks like someone attached two Goodyear blimps to the chest of an underfed Russian woman? So many questions, so few answers. If only Tanya would ever write back!

Seriously, as much as I like hearing from the readers, my response to the first date question is always the same: Get Drunk. Don’t get messy, sassy, or stupid–just get a nice, respectable Dean-Martin-Christmas-Special kinda drunk. No shots, no drinks with the word “sex,” “slide,” or “blowjob” in them. Just a couple of cocktails, wines, beers, or Zimas. (Zima is Tanya’s favorite. Probably.) Do you need alcohol to have a good time? No. But you might need it to have a good time with someone you’ve never met who could very well be awful. I mean, come on. If someone walked up to you and said “Hey, see that chick standing in the corner? You’ve gotta talk to her this minute. I’ll tell you her name and her job and what she likes to do on the weekend, but you’re probably gonna forget. So GO.” Are you gonna slug back a bourbon first, or just go at it stone-cold sober? You’re taking the drink. You’re looking at the guy like he’s a lunatic, and then you’re taking the drink. Because drinking makes meeting someone easier. However, the following date ideas do not…

"It was really nice meeting you, but now I have to barf!"

“It was really nice meeting you, but now I have to barf!”

GETTING COFFEE: What, the evening doesn’t have you jittery enough, you wanna throw some caffeine into the equation to see what happens? Why don’t you just meet your date on a roller coaster, or, say, the inside of a volcano? I have never, I repeat NEVER had a good first date that involved only coffee. You can’t meet at Starbucks, because that’s just depressing, so instead you meet at an Independent Coffee Purveyor, which is either going to be dank and dirty or filled with strollers. I’m not sure which is worse for romance, but neither is good. And then what happens if the date is going well, you get a…second cup of coffee? Good grief. Dating is the anti-Glengarry Glen Ross: Coffee is Not for Closers.

PLAYING POOL: Why not invite your date to change your carburetor, or perhaps perfectly shave a man’s Adam’s apple? I mean, how far exactly do you want to take your date out of her comfort zone? Women often feel insecure about their pool playing ability, thinking it’s something men are either great at or care about tremendously. Neither could be further from the truth. It takes me 45 minutes to clear a pool table, and that’s with me manually dropping balls in the pockets when no one’s looking. But why pick an activity that is very possibly going to make your date nervous? There are plenty of women who love and are great at pool, but they’re in the minority, so don’t risk making the night uncomfortable. And if you think the thing where you teach them how to line up a shot is going to be cute and datey, you’re wrong. It’s gonna be weird and gropey. Put down the sticks and order a DRINK.

Also an option.

Also an option.

PLAYING DARTS: Sure the date is going badly now, but what if we introduce small, pointy knives into the equation? “Ooops! She hit me in the eye! I guess at least I don’t have pay for drinks!” I actually think darts is a pretty good date activity, because no one’s particularly good at it, which evens the playing field. Unless you’re one of those burly darts aficionados who’s known as “The Hammer” or “Bullseye Barney,” but something tells me snarky dating blogs really isn’t your thing, so I’m not speaking to you. If you’re gonna play a game, darts is a good choice, because it doesn’t monopolize the conversation too much, but still, it’s distracting. And really, any activity that increases the likelihood of a punctured lung is never a great date game plan.

GOING TO A MOVIE: Is there a way we can get to know each other less? What if we just watched DVDs separately at home? Or, how about this: at exactly 6:15 you take a two-hour long nap at your house, I’ll take one at my house, and then we reconvene afterwards to see how it went? Sound good? GOOD!

GOING OUT FOR DINNER: It guarantees the date will be long, expensive, and possibly result in gas. BINGO! I believe we have BINGO!

WALKING OUR DOGS TOGETHER: No good first date involves feces, human or otherwise. However, tune in next week for why it plays an integral role in date #3! (I’m kidding. As far as you know.)

Posted in Advice, Internet Dating is Weird | 19 Comments

Tinder: The Newest and Most Annoying Way to Internet Date

You know it works because she's making a heart with her hands.

You know it works because she’s making a heart with her hands.

Have you ever felt like internet dating contains too much information. Like, you finish reading someone’s profile and think, “You know, I feel like I almost know them too well. Is there any way we can put some mystery back into this nameless, vague, based-largely-on-platitude-based-profiles relationship?” Well good news, because Tinder, the new iPhone dating app that is exploding on college campuses everywhere, is here to take all the pesky “getting to know you out” of actually, you know, getting to know someone.

The app is pretty simple. Basically, it’s Grindr for straight people. You download the program to your phone and it immediately links up with Facebook. It then uses your profile photo to show you other Tinder users in the area, and, in turn, shows you to them. And that’s it! No information, bios, or explanations of what you’re looking for out of love, life, or…anything really. You see a picture, usually of someone who’s 17 years-old, hit the “like” or “dislike” button, and as far as I can tell, within 20 minutes you’re having sex. And then getting arrested.

Seriously though, it’s that simple. Every profile category you’ve come to know and not particularly love on Match and OkCupid is disposed of. No more “What am I Looking For” or “Six Things I Can’t I Live Without” or “On a Typical Friday Night I Am”. It’s too bad too, because I’d really perfected my answer to the last one. I uploaded a collage of my cat, a DVR sitting at 100% capacity, and a bag of Cadbury Mini Eggs. It’s breathtaking. Tinder only gives you more information about your beloved if you like her picture and she likes yours back. Then you get access to each other’s Facebook pages and can start conversing, presuming Chris Hansen and Dateline hasn’t yet burst into your living room. But until you get confirmation of mutual interest, you’re left to images like this to decide if you’re smitten….




Basically it’s like trying to go on a date with Instagram. Except, possibly, more irritating. Every picture has the sheen of being fed through seven different image filters, usually involves a “wacky expression,” and almost always features more than one person. I mean, who exactly are we supposed to be attracted to here?




There are 800 girls in that picture, and they all look exactly the same. I’ll take…you! The one with dyed blond hair. No, not you! The one in sunglasses! Oh, forget it.

Tinder14Sure, why not throw in a few dudes just to make it more confusing. Honestly, you might as well just take a picture of an entire country. I would be no less likely to figure out who I’m supposed to be looking at. And then of course, my all-time favorite…


Whose back do you find the hottest? I guess just click the heart and hope it’s her! But don’t worry, she’s in a sorority, so she’s probably pretty cool no matter what.

I have only tried out Tinder for a couple of days, as I was just informed of its existence by the It’s Not a Match Street Team. (There is no It’s Not a Match Street Team.) So far, these are my conclusions: everyone on it is under 22, and people who are under 22 all seem to have ridiculous names. Here’s a few I encountered:

Janesssa, Jaimiey, Kcristina, Brena, Jas, Natascha, Mychelle, Rahael, My-Ishia, Kayte, Jillian, Gillian, Jillyanne, Jilleane, Jileen, Samaire, Elisse, Orly, Lisle, Vilte, Alixe, Austyn, Jadel, Chantelle, Storm, and Mary. Oh sorry, I meant Marii. Also…


That’s right, a girl whose name is incredibly close to Nazi.

In an interview about the site, the founders said Tinder was necessary because traditional dating sites are built on long-winded profiles, most of which are fake. Really? And you’re telling me there’s actually someone out there named Marii? Yeah right. They also said other sites involve too much rejection, as the men send lots of emails that are never answered, and the women are immediately freaked out by the creepiness of said emails. So ultimately, no one wins. And I get that. I mean, if it weren’t true, this website wouldn’t exist. But is Tinder any less creepy? Men of any age tossing their presence at you based strictly on one picture of your face? No personality, no communication, no ability to evaluate their sanity before giving them access to your real name and Facebook page? Sure, it takes less time, but does anyone really want to date that way? I don’t know, as far as I’m concerned, OkCupid has never sounded so good.

There was one thing on Tinder that made me feel right at home, however. A single image that reminded me of the good ol’ days…


Aaaah, yes. The faceless profile. It’s nice to see you, old friend. Now that’s the internet dating experience I know and love!

Posted in Internet Dating is Weird | 13 Comments

My New Book, and The End of My Online Secret Identity

Not A MatchCOVERJPGMy name is Brian Donovan, and I am an online dater. For some of my readers, those who have been following my other writing on Thought Catalog, that’s not much of a revelation. I’ve written about it over there frequently. For those who’ve been reading me here at It’s Not a Match, it probably comes as a bit of a surprise. Because until today, as you well know, I’ve been writing this anonymously. No names, no pictures, no women hating me for writing about them online. But with the release of my new ebook, Not a Match: My True Tales on Online Dating Disasters, that’s changed. It’s the end of an era. That’s right, I’m going to finally attach my name to my ridiculous online dating exploits. Yippee! I think!

For those of you who are new to INaM, I ‘ve been dating online for years, and have gone on at least 100 dates. I say “at least,” because actually I’ve entirely lost count of how many, and chances are it’s far more than 100. I know, I sound like a scandalous ladies’ man. To dissuade yourself of that notion however, simply click on my Thought Catalog archives. My favorites things to write about over there are my cat and The Gilmore Girls. Bea Arthur is more of a ladies’ man than I am. But I wanted to find the girl of my dreams, and so logically the first thought that jumped into my head was, “she’s probably hiding inside of a computer!” So I’ve used Match and OkCupid on and off since college, and have amassed quite a slew of stories. There’s the girl who caught on fire, the girl who brought her boyfriend on our date, even the girl who confronted me on national TV. Plus a lot of great advice, that will hopefully allow you to have a less tragic romantic life than I do. It’s all in the book…that you’re gonna buy a few copies of for yourself, then buy some for friends, and family, and strangers in the street, and even some dead people, and probably a few stuffed animals. My book does particularly well with stuffed animals.

But the real question is, why am I doing this now? I’ve kept myself secret this long (except for a few enterprising readers who somehow figured it all out), so I certainly could’ve written my book under a pen name. And believe me, I seriously considered it.  My reasoning was this: what woman would ever go out with a guy who might gab about it afterwards online? Especially on an internet date. I mean, there’s at least a 25% chance anyone you meet on OkCupid is going to be a psychopath to begin with. Then if you throw in the possibility that he’s gonna write about you on his blog, add on the price of gas, parking, and the time it takes to get ready, and screw it–you might as well stay home and watch House Hunters. Or, just a suggestion, The Gilmore Girls. If I openly wrote about dating, would my dating life be finished? In early trials, it seemed like it would.

When I first started It’s Not a Match, I had an optimistic full-honesty policy, which required me to tell women about the site before meeting them in person. That way, no one would feel hoodwinked and freak out. No big deal, right? Wrong. Very big deal. Here are some of the responses I received after telling women about this little bad boy. Keep in mind that before this revelation, the conversations were going quite well…

“Are you fucking kidding me?!”

“My brother’s a writer! But I really don’t want to go out with you anymore.”

“Sorry, but no way.”

“Really? That’s cool. No thanks!”

“Is everyone online such a freak?!”

“I want my money back.”

This pretty much sums up how they felt...

This pretty much sums up how they felt…

I wasn’t sure what money she was referring to, but I sent her a check anyway. Seemed like the least I could do. And these were the women who took my news well. Most of them just stopped talking to me altogether. Honestly though, I don’t blame ‘em one bit. I never lie here, and I’ve always changed my date’s names and identity as much as possible, but still, I’m not sure if even I would’ve wanted to go out with me. Especially with all the blabbering about my cat. I mean really, it never stops. So as an emergency measure, honesty was shelved, and I ceased telling my dates about my writing until things got serious. And even then, it was broached carefully, and none of them were particularly thrilled. So what’s changed? Why have I now decided to come out of the internet dating closet? For one, I don’t date anywhere near as much as I used to, so the effect is minimized. But more importantly, I realized that the right woman for me will understand what I’m doing. She knows that I’m a writer, that sometimes it’ll be about my life, and that, for better or worse, it comes with the territory. Is she throwing a parade and telling her friends and family with glee in her in voice? No she is not. But she tolerates what I do, and on occasion maybe it even makes her smile. I have found a few such women already, and every time I am amazed at their greatness. Ah, great women. They’re just sensational, aren’t they? I have no idea why they tolerate us being such goons…

So I’m going out on a limb here, but I hope it’s worth it. For those of you who have been reading the site for a while, I promise you’ll love the book. It’s got all my classic stories, revamped, rewritten, and punched up to add extra humor and truthiness. From now on, it’ll be the only place to read some of my most popular pieces: The Girl Who Was a Mennonite, Crafting the Perfect Email, and The Sex Crier and others. If you don’t like the book, I’ll give you your money back. I mean, I won’t, but it feels like the right thing to say in the moment. But I hope you’ll get the book. A few sheckles will help me keep writing this site, and buying drinks for women who do funny things that I can run home and tell you guys all about.

So, yeah. Hi, I’m Brian. It’s nice to meet you all.

To Buy Not a Match: My True Tales of Online Dating Disasters on Amazon, click HERE.

For Your Ipad, Get It In the iBookstore HERE.

Or, if you’re frightened by technology and would rather read it on your computer, click HERE

Posted in Uncategorized | 16 Comments